


The things left unsaid

by Nirindel



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Alternate Ending, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, BAMF Bilbo, Battle of Five Armies Fix-It, Bilbo is So Done, Blood, Canon-Typical Violence, Eventual Happy Ending, Fluff and Angst, Hurt Bilbo, M/M, Near Death Experiences, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-05
Updated: 2015-07-05
Packaged: 2018-04-07 21:03:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,842
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4277823
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nirindel/pseuds/Nirindel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He was dying.<br/>That’s what you get from desperately trying to save a stubborn dwarf king, Bilbo thought bitterly as he tightly clenched the wound in his side. Although, the funny thing was, he would probably do it again, even knowing the consequences.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The things left unsaid

**Author's Note:**

> My usual reminder: I'm not English, so, sorry for the mistakes.
> 
> This is beta tested by lovely [dee-licium](https://hobbitystmarymorstan.tumblr.com/)

The ground was hard and cold beneath him. The rocks were digging into Bilbo’s back, but he didn’t have the strength to move, much less shift even slightly to a more comfortable position...if one could get comfortable on stone and ice covered ground. His eyes were closed as he tried to calm his breathing and slow down the blood that was stubbornly escaping the wound in his side despite his tightly clenched hands. This was bad. Well, actually very bad; given the fact that he was, at this point, all alone on Ravenhill, badly wounded and goblins and orcs were probably lurking nearby.

How on earth did he get in this mess? Oh yes...he tried to save the fool of a king, before Azog got his hands on him. Very heroic, really. The thing was, Bilbo didn’t know if his ‘heroic’ plan had even worked. It centrally wasn’t working for him, to be honest. He really should think his plans more thoroughly next time. If there was a ‘next time’. Because looking at it right now, there was a small chance for that.

Bilbo drew a ragged breath and winced at the sharp pain shooting from his side. He should probably try and move to a less open place, but his body protested simply breathing. There was no way he was able to move right now. He sighed silently, resigned. He was dying. The wound in his side was deep, he had already lost lots of blood and there was little chance of rescue. Surprisingly, he wasn’t as scared of dying as he thought he would be. He should be terrified, for Yavanna’s sake! He was just a small, wounded hobbit on a battlefield full of orcs, goblins and trolls. But despite that, he felt calm... fulfilled. He’d fought to protect his friends. He would do it again, even knowing the consequences.

Bilbo smiled slightly, remembering the surprised faces of Thorin, Fili, Kili and Dwalin as he appeared suddenly among them on Ravenhill, warning them of the upcoming ambush. The young princes were about to go searching the watch tower, so he’d arrived just in time. He didn’t even want to think about what would've happened if they'd gone there.

They’d started their descent from Ravenhill when the goblins attacked. Bilbo fought alongside Dwalin and they were soon separated from the Durins. The big dwarf was quite surprised by Bilbo’s skills. At least their lessons hadn’t been in vain, the hobbit thought with a proud smile. Dwalin was a good and patient teacher. Although Bilbo hadn’t liked the lessons at first, he soon saw their importance. Besides it had been fun, to be honest (the rest of the Shire would probably faint if they heard him admitting to that). He’d thought, actually, that he wouldn’t be needing them anyway. But there he was, fighting a herd of goblins and trying to stay alive. He’d been so scared then. The enemies had attacked in a wild frenzy and no matter how many they killed, more still came.

That was when Bilbo’s luck started running out. He had lost sight of Dwalin after a persistent goblin dragged him away from the dwarf. He’d needed to get back and fast. The hobbit had rushed towards the sounds of battle...only to run straight into Azog. Bilbo had stumbled backward with a yelp, a silent ‘oh’ escaping his lips at the sight of the pale orc right in front of him. Well...this was clearly very bad. He needed to run, get as far as he can. The only problem was that Azog stood in front of the only available exit and, judging by the look on his face, didn’t intend to let his prey go away. When he had looked at the hobbit’s frightened face, a nasty smile had stretched his lips. This isn’t going to be pleasant, thought Bilbo, as he desperately tried to come up with any sort of a plan.

Of course his luck had to run out at a moment like this (he probably used it all when he had his chat with Smaug). Perfect timing, really. Just when he was all alone, tired and stressed from battle. Thorin really owned him a big ‘thank you’ and a cup of tea, in that order. Well, to be honest, he was doing it for the dwarf king, but still a thanks would be appreciated. The things he did for that stubborn, pig-headed, crazy, handsome... alright, enough of that. He had more urgent matters to take care of. For example, a big orc right in front of him with a sharp looking sword. Yes, definitely more urgent. And there was no getting away from this, Azog wouldn’t let him. So either he fought and died, or he ran and died. Bilbo decided then, that he would not die running away. He would fight. He really had had enough of this blasted orc already.

The hobbit braced himself and waited. He remembered his lessons with Dwalin. The dwarf reminded him on many occasions never to underestimate his opponents. Azog was doing exactly that at this moment. His stance was relaxed and he swung his sword nonchalantly, grinning nastily at Bilbo while saying something in that foul speech of his. The hobbit waited patiently. He had a lot of patience after travelling with a bunch of dwarrows,  especially their king.

The pale orc seemed to get bored of threatening Bilbo and not getting a desired response. Finally, he lurched at his smaller opponent, but the hobbit was ready. He didn’t even plan on blocking the blow, he was to weak for that. Instead he dodged quickly, darting as far as he could. Azog snarled angrily at that and attacked again, with more fury this time. Bilbo avoided his strikes, desperately looking for an opening. He wouldn’t last if this went on. Finally he saw it, a gap in the orc’s defence. The hobbit didn’t wait. He threw himself at his opponent and thrust Sting deep in Azog’s side. The sword went in like a knife through butter and Bilbo twisted it with a snarl. A loud roar escaped the orc’s mouth and he grabbed the hobbit by the collar of his shirt before he managed to stumble backwards.

Bilbo tried to wriggle out of Azog’s grasp, but he would have had more luck wrestling with an oliphaunt. The pale orc snarled in the hobbit’s face and pulled Sting from his side, tossing it away. So much for his plan to weaken the opponent, thought Bilbo bitterly, trying to break free. His movement caused the shirt to pull up revealing the mithril beneath and when Azog noticed that, he smiled in a very unpleasant way and the hobbit knew what was coming. He braced himself. The orc shook him to reveal unprotected skin and in one swift move struck right into Bilbo's right side. The hobbit cried in pain as the metal pierced his skin and nearly blacked out as the pale orc removed it and tossed him on the ground. Or maybe he had blacked out, now that he thought of it. Because when he opened his eyes, he was all alone; only the wind howling between the snow-covered ruins and a growing pool of blood forming around him.

Well... at least Azog was gone. He probably thought the hobbit dead and left him alone. Bilbo just hoped that he didn’t find his dwarrows. That his silly, ‘heroic’ plan had worked and they had managed to get off Ravenhill before the pale orc got his hands on them. He sighed in resignation. There was nothing he could do for them right now. He could just hope and lie here waiting for death.

Bilbo opened his eyes (when had he close them?) and stared at the bright blue sky. He hadn't had the chance to look at it much after being stuck in Mirkwood for so long. He liked its colour. It reminded him of Thorin’s eyes. His were also blue, but more intense. He remembered that that was the first thing he’d noticed when he meet the dwarf king for the first time. Of course, the good image was shattered when that stubborn oaf had opened his mouth. Grocer? Really! Well...maybe he had been a little helpless then, but he’d manage on his own, thank you very much. Besides he’d proved his worth many times on their journey. After that ‘nice’ welcome Bilbo had really wanted to slap the king on the head and throw him out of his hobbit hole, propriety (and those nice eyes) be damned!

Their relationship hadn't been very good after that. They’d avoided each other as much as possible and argued whenever they were closer than a pony’s length. But after hearing Balin’s story about Moria, he’d started respecting Thorin (although he’d still thought that the dwarf needed to get off of his high horse!). Bilbo had seen him then as a leader who protected his people and fought to reclaim their homeland. After that, Bilbo had really tried to show Thorin that he wasn’t as helpless as the dwarf thought. The events on Carrock were the real turn. That hug had been so full of gratitude and warmth that the hobbit had felt overwhelmed (and he definitely hadn’t blushed!). That’s when Bilbo had noticed something else in his companion. He’d seen him not as a king and a warrior, but as a plain dwarf blacksmith, an uncle who cared for his nephews (despite his own wounds he had checked them for any injuries). As a friend. Bilbo had finally seen beyond the walls of royalty. And he'd admitted that he liked that simple Thorin more. They had started talking then (instead of yelling), and the hobbit had listened carefully as the dwarf king talked about his sister and nephews, his life in the Blue Mountains and about Erebor. He had, in exchange, explained about the Shire, his nosy neighbours and his countless cousins. The topic hadn't been really important, but Thorin had kept asking him questions and hadn’t seem bored. Bilbo could say that they’d became friends. They had still argued, but made up quickly only to be engrossed in other simple, everyday topics.

It had been silly really, to think that there was something more. Bilbo had been (well, still was) attracted to the dwarf, he could admit to that, but he was aware that there would be only friendship between them. He was only a plain and simple hobbit, no match for a king. The silly thing that happened in Lake Town...he had probably interpreted it incorrectly anyway. They had been just chatting and Thorin had asked him then if he would stay in Erebor after everything was over. When Bilbo said he would consider it, because the dwarrows had become like family to him and Bag End would never be the same after everything that happened, Thorin had smiled at him with so much fondness and warmth that it had sent a spark down his spine and he was sure he’d blushed crimson then. It looked like the king had wanted to say something else (and had he leaned towards him then?), but unfortunately Dwalin had come looking for him and the spell had broken (blast that bald dwarf! Always coming at the wrong moment! The same thing with the acorn. Bilbo could have sworn that he would be able to pull Thorin out of the gold sickness, if Dwalin hadn’t interrupt them).

Things had gone downhill after that. The gold sickness and the disaster with the Arkenstone... that  definitely didn’t end well. It was a pity really, that Bilbo wouldn’t be able to apologise for stealing the king’s jewel. He didn’t regret it, he’d just wanted to prevent a war and the dwarf king hadn’t seen reason. But still, it was an important part of Thorin's heritage.

He had so many things he wanted to say. He wanted to tell Thorin that he would be a great king, that he cared for him and always would and that he should smile more because his eyes look more beautiful then. That was the only thing he regretted right now. That he wouldn’t be able to talk to Thorin again and apologize. That he wouldn’t see that warm smile and those blue eyes of his. He had things to say to the rest of the company, too. He wanted to say just how important they were to him and that he would never regret giving his life for their protection.  That he wouldn’t be able to thank them for all the things they had done for him. That he wouldn't be able to apologize to Gandalf. The wizard would be mad at him after he discovered what Bilbo did. The hobbit just hoped that the old man wouldn’t change anyone into frogs after that.

Bilbo drew another shaky breath and coughed. He could feel blood on his lips. It hurt...it hurt so much. He was so cold and his body felt unpleasantly numb. So this is the end, he thought as everything started to get blurry around the edges. He stopped holding his wound and let his hands fall to the ground. There was no point fighting it now. No one was coming and even if someone found him it was already too late. He’d lost too much blood and the wound was serious. The hobbit tried to take a deeper breath, because his vision started to swirl, but his lungs didn’t want to cooperate. Bilbo finally let his breath leave him with a quiet sigh.

The last thing he remembered, before darkness finally took him, were noises coming from a distance and a big shadow appearing above him.

If only he could see Thorin on last time...

 

_ Bilbo! _

_ Mahal! Bilbo!! _

_ Bilbo! Don’t you dare! _

 

Oh, be quiet you lot. I’m too tired for shouting.

 

_ Do something! _

_ I’m tryin’! And yer not helpin’! _

 

I’ll do something if you won’t stop with this yelling.

 

_ I need more bandages! _

_ Where’s that bloody elf? _

_ Bilbo! _

 

For pity’s sake, would you all just shut up. My head hurts because of you.

 

_ Bilbo! _

_ For Mahal’s sake, hurry! _

 

Why do you never listen? I just want to sleep. I’m so tired.

 

_ He is burning up! Give me more water! _

_ It’s not too late! Don’t you dare say it’s too late! _

 

Please let me sleep. Maybe then this pain will go away.

 

_ Bilbo, please... _

_ Don’t... _

 

Thorin? Is that you? Could you please say something to them? I want to sl...

 

_ B-bilbo... _

_ D-do not leave... _

 

Thorin...are...are you crying? What’s happened?

 

_ Do not leave. I need you here. _

_ I have so many things to say to you Bilbo. My ghivashel. _

 

Thorin, I also want to talk to you... Wait... what did you just call me?

 

_ Bilbo... _

_ My ghivashel... _

_ Please, do not leave me. _

 

Oh dear... Thorin, you can’t call me that. I mean, I shouldn't know what that means, I’m aware of that. Sorry. I was just curious when I heard Glóin talk about his wife. He was drunk, so please don’t blame him. But...why are you calling me that? You can’t be serious...

 

_ My ghivashel, my brave Bilbo... _

_ Why couldn’t I protect you? _

_ D-do not go where I cannot follow... _

 

Thorin...I...

 

 

The first thing he saw, when he woke up, was a brown ceiling. Where was he? And why was it so hot in here? Not only hot, but stuffy and heavy with the scent of herbs. The smell made his head spin. He groaned softly and tried to move, but his body didn’t want to respond. And his throat felt sore and dry. He would give the whole Shire for a cup of water.

‘Bilbo?’

There was someone near him. If only he could move his aching head to see who it was. Why did everything hurt so much?

‘Oh, thank Mahal! You’re finally awake!’

Please...no shouting. Goddess, his head hurt. He groaned again and coughed. Could someone just give him some water?

‘Everyone’ll be so relieved.’

He felt a rough but gentle hand beneath his head and he was lifted slightly. Then, a cup appeared in his blurry field of view. Thank Yavanna, water. He drank slowly, delighted that it was cold. It washed across his dry lips and down his throat leaving a nice, cool feeling. When he finished, he was delicately lowered back on the pillow. That was tiresome. Since when drinking a cup of water left him so exhausted? He wanted to close his eyes and go back to sleep, but the person who had helped him finally appeared in his line of sight. Wait...he knew that funny hat and pigtails. It was dark and the face was blurry, but he definitely recognised this...dwarf.

‘Bofur?’

Was that really his voice? It sounded so wrong, like he hasn’t used it for years.

‘Ye recognise me? That’s brilliant! How are ye feelin’?’ Bofur smiled widely, looking at him closely.

He wanted to say horrible (well, worse than horrible actually), but he didn’t have the energy to say more. His eyes were already closed and he started drifting back to sleep. He was certain that the dwarf was saying something more, but the words got lost under the buzzing in his ears.

He woke up a few more times after that, but only for a short while. There was always someone with him. He recognised Ori, Dori, Óin and Bombur. He was too tired to talk to them properly, but he was so relieved to see them alive and whole. He finally remembered what happened. About the quest, Smaug, the war (luckily they had won, at least that’s what Ori told him) and Ravenhill. It really was a miracle he was still alive. The dwarrows told him that many times. Everything still felt numb, the wound in his side hurt terribly, he had a nasty fever and he didn’t have the energy to stay awake longer than a few minutes. But he was alive and that was what was most important.

The next time he woke fully, it was to a warm presence. Someone was holding his hand and delicately stroking his hair. He finally felt better, but this was so nice that he wanted to drift back to sleep where nothing hurt. But he was so thirsty again. Reluctantly, he opened his eyes, only to groan quietly. Blast that Óin and his herbs. The smoke from them made his eyes sting. Nasty stuff...

‘Bilbo?’

Oh...he knew that voice. Knew it all too well.

‘Thorin?’ he said while slowly turning his head towards the source of the voice.

There he was, beside his bed, with a tired and pale faca. He had dark circles under his eyes and a nasty bruise on his forehead, but he was alive. Bilbo never had been awake long enough to ask about the rest of the company, so seeing Thorin now made him sigh with relief.

‘Thank Mahal,’ the dwarf gave him a sad but relieved smile. He visibly relaxed his tense shoulders, but his eyes were so full of guilt that it made the hobbit’s stomach squeeze unpleasantly, ‘I heard from the rest that you woke up a few times. I am sorry that I was not here then, but my duties called.’

‘It’s fine. H-how long was I asleep?’ Bilbo wasn’t sure he wanted to know the answer, but the asked nonetheless.   

‘You were unconscious for nearly two weeks. You really made us worry.’

‘Oh...’ was all the hobbit managed to say. Two weeks...no wonder he was so stiff.

‘The important thing is that you are awake and your fever is going down. How are you feeling?’

‘Been better really. Could use some water, too.’

Thorin smiled which send a pleasant tingle down Bilbo’s spine, and helped him drink a cup of water. The effort made the hobbit feel drowsy again, but he was determined to stay awake this time. He really wanted to talk to the king.

‘I’m sorry,’ he said when he was lying back on the bed. So eloquent, he thought.

‘What?’

And why did Thorin look so surprised?

‘I wanted to apologize for everything. The Arkenstone...’

‘Bilbo, there is nothing you should apologize for,’ the dwarf didn’t let him finish, ‘It should be me, apologizing. I threatened and  banished you.’

‘You weren’t yourself then. You were sick.’

‘But still...’ Thorin took a deep breath as if bracing himself, ‘Bilbo, please forgive me. I would take back my words and deeds at the gate. You did what only a true friend would do. I was too blind to see. I am so sorry that I have led you into such peril.’

‘No…’ the hobbit squeezed Thorin’s hand as tightly as he could, ‘I’m glad to have shared in your perils, Thorin. Each and every one of them. It’s far more than any Baggins deserves.’

The king looked so surprised that Bilbo would have laughed if his side didn’t hurt so much. Was it really so strange that he wanted to help his friend?

‘You almost died because of me…’

‘And I would do it again if it meant your safety.’

Thorin looked at him in shock for a few moments, then finally smiled broadly. He leaned closer and stroked Bilbo’s hair gently. His eyes were so full of warmth that the hobbit couldn’t look away. Was it warmer in here?

‘My brave burglar,’ the king said with fondness, ‘You never cease to surprise me. I am beyond grateful for what you did and I will never be able to repay you, but please do not charge into danger like that anymore.’

‘I can’t make promises,’ Bilbo chuckled slightly, ‘You’ll just have to promise me you won't get into trouble again and then I’ll see what I can do.’

‘Stubborn as always.’

They both laughed silently at that. It was so nice to talk so normally after such a long time. The hobbit really missed that.

He started to drift back to sleep, soothed by Thorin’s hand and warm presence, when a thought occurred to him.

‘What happened to Azog?’

‘You don’t know?’ asked Thorin looking shocked again. Lots of surprises today.

When Bilbo shook his head, the dwarf continued, ‘You killed him. Stabbed him in the side.’

‘What?!’ That was impossible!

‘You do not remember?’

‘I did injure him, but he just pulled out Sting like it was only a scratch.’

‘That wound was fatal. We found Azog’s body not far from you. It probably did not occur to him until it was too late. We followed his blood trail and that is how we found you.’

‘Oh dear…’  was the only thing Bilbo managed to say. He had really killed the pale orc? But he was just a small hobbit, for Yavanna’s sake!

‘Everyone is already calling you  _ Bilbo the Azog-slayer _ ,’ the king said, with a grin.

The what? Please, not that! He already had enough chaos around himself to last for a lifetime.

‘Please tell me you’re joking.’

‘There is nothing to joke about,’ Thorin was serious now, ‘That is a great deed and you will be praised for that. Azog was one of our great enemies, so we are now forever in your debit.’

‘But  _ Bilbo the Azog-slayer _ ?! That is just ridiculous. I’m just a hobbit!’

‘A hobbit that stood against Smaug, saved me and my company many times, prevented war between dwarrows, elves and men and killed Azog. If there are not any more hobbits like you, then you are a real treasure amongst them and we were lucky to find you.’

Bilbo was sure he was as red as his tomatoes after that. How did Thorin manage to make him feel like this? He wasn’t a tween anymore. Of all the things the king could say to him...

Wait… Treasure? That reminded him of something. But…that had been a dream, right? It couldn’t be true. It had felt so real, but the king would never…

The hobbit looked Thorin in the eyes. He saw joy there, and guilt (he would have to work on that later), but now that he looked closely he saw something else. It was nearly hidden, but Bilbo could see it. It seemed something very close to…affection? No, it couldn’t be that. He really should stop reading too deeply into the dwarf’s words. He needed to stop these silly thoughts and misinterpretations!

‘What does  _ ghivashel _ mean?’

What?! Why in Yavanna’s name had he asked that? Oh him and his big, stupid, Tookish mouth! He was an adult, he should know how to keep his thoughts in his head. Was it because of his fever? If the king discovered where he learned the meaning of the word… Thorin would kill him. They were friends again and it should stay that way. But no… he had to open his mouth and destroy everything all over again.

‘What? Where did you hear that?’ the king looked at the hobbit with a raised eyebrow. He hadn’t expected that.

‘You called me that, when I was unconscious. I heard scraps of conversations...’

Oh, please stop talking…

Bilbo looked away awkwardly. What was wrong with him? Why did he keep talking? He really hated his Took side sometimes. It always got him into trouble. He needed to apologize. He’d blame it on the fever, say that he must have had a dream. He needed to get out of this mess.

The hobbit looked at the dwarf, opening his mouth to say sorry, but closed it immediately after seeing the king’s face. He was... blushing? Bilbo blinked, trying to see clearly. Was it the light? Goddess, no! Thorin really was blushing. His eyes weren’t playing tricks on him. And what a sight that was. The dwarf’s cheeks were crimson red as he stared at his friend with wide eyes. He wondered how far down that.... Stop! That was quite enough, thank you. Concentrate. There’s a conversation going and, no matter how lovely the king looked right now, it needed to be finished.

Bilbo cleared his throat, trying to come up with something to say, but Thorin was faster.

‘I d-did not expect t-that you heard that. I thought you was...that you were asleep then.’

A blushing and stuttering Thorin. Now this was something the hobbit had never expected to see.

The king stared at his hands, clearly uncomfortable. Then, after a few moments, he looked at Bilbo. He seemed so...defeated.  The dwarf took a deep breath and explained.

‘ _ Ghivashel _ in Khuzdul means  _ treasure of treasures _ . I should not use it for you without your permission. It is a form of endearment. I apologize.’

And that was a turn that Bilbo hadn't foreseen. He hadn’t ever dream of having something different than friendship between them. This was…unexpected, but definitely not unwanted. Maybe his luck hadn't left him after all. It had just taken a different route.

When the hobbit looked at the king now, so resigned and disappointed, he felt brave. It seemed that now it was his turn to take a step. Besides, he’d started this conversation in the first place. He took a deep breath (well not too deep, it still hurt) and grasped the dwarf’s hand tightly. When Thorin looked at him, he smiled warmly. You can do it Bilbo, he thought, you faced a dragon and that was much worse.

‘Thorin, I don’t think you need my permission for something like that. But if you really want it then you have it. Besides, I would really like to learn more words in that language of yours. I hope you don’t mind.’

The king’s face brightened instantly. He seemed surprised, but still gave Bilbo the warmest and most affectionate smile he’d ever seen. It made his breath hitch and he was sure he was blushing. Well, they both were at this point, so that didn’t matter anymore.

‘Of course I do not mind…  _ ghivashel _ ,’ Thorin said leaning closer and stroking the hobbit’s hair gently, ‘Does this mean that you will stay in Erebor?’

‘Well someone needs to keep an eye on you, so you won’t get into trouble or start a war with the elves,’ Bilbo closed his eyes halfway, leaning into the king’s touch. Why did he have to get so sleepy at the best moments?

‘And I am sure that you are the best choice for that. Sleep now,  _ kurdel _ . You need your rest.’

Bilbo wanted to ask what  _ kurdel _ meant, but his body had other ideas. His eyes finally closed and he started to doze off, comforted by Thorin’s loving presence. He still had many things to say to the dwarf king, but it seemed they’d have to wait until next time. At least he’d managed to say the most important part.

Before he fell asleep completely, he was sure he felt a brush of something soft on his forehead.

He was a lucky hobbit indeed.

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Khuzdul translations:  
> Kurdel - heart of all hearts  
> Ghivashel - treasure of all treasures
> 
>  
> 
> I read so many fics form Hobbit that I decided it's time for my own creation. I need more BAMF Bilbo!  
> I have a few ideas to continue this into a series of short fics of Bilbo living in Erebor, but I'll see how this goes. 
> 
> Visit me on [Tumblr](http://nirindel.tumblr.com/)


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